


Heavenly Bodies

by obsolete_theory (ersatzbeta)



Category: Saiyuki Gaiden
Genre: Crack, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 00:50:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1325551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ersatzbeta/pseuds/obsolete_theory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not for the first time, Kenren wished those bastards on high would sign off on his leave paperwork. He only asked for leave every seventy-seven years or so, and it didn't feel like a lot to ask for, considering the burden he currently labored under.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written May 2013 for a challenge on LJ's weisai_meme, and not posted until now because, apparently, I am a forgetful idiot. I hope you enjoy it anyway!
> 
> Original meme prompt as below:
> 
> "Let's pretend for the moment that Kenren is (secretly or not) unofficial offspring of Rāgarāja Only since he was born out of wedlock, he doesn't have the full family graces, the downshort of this being that every hundred years or so his "powers" go a little haywire and for a month, every god in a ten mile radius is trying to hit on him, including Gojuun and/or Tenpou. I'd prefer one of them to manage to win/dominate him but cracky fill with Kenren trying his hardest to extricate himself from overly-zealous embraces and come-ons without ruining his career or losing Tenpou as a friend would be welcome. Of course, dirty "oh ok fine go ahead then" sex is also a-ok!
> 
> Short version: Kenren is in heat and everyone wants to tap that."

Kenren had barely gotten out of Kanzeon's holy presence with his clothing intact. His pride certainly wasn't, but that wasn't the point. Probably. Kenren straightened the collar of his jacket and tried to walk like all the eyes of Heaven weren't watching him. Casual, balancing on the edge of a knife. So he was missing a glove now, and his ass had a few bruises, but it could have been worse. Much, much worse.  
  
Wandering down one of the boring, bright, heavenly arcades that ran between the courtyards, Kenren relaxed slightly. Nobody was around. Good. Not for the first time, he wished those bastards on high would sign off on his leave paperwork. He only asked for leave every seventy-seven years or so, and it didn't feel like a lot to ask for, considering the burden he currently labored under.  
  
If he could have, he would have just conned Konzen Douji into rubber-stamping the paperwork, but that would have meant an interaction of some kind. Kenren didn't want to chance that surly, misanthropic exterior cracking under the extreme sexuality Kenren currently inspired.  
  
Kenren cursed his idiot, lust-inducing half-uncle who'd subsequently fucked Kenren's life up with a shitty, lust-inducing heritage that had all of Heaven panting after his (admittedly awesome but also admittedly  _not available_ ) ass for a week or three. And the divine beings around him were fucking famous for having less scruples than practically any resident of the Lower World. Kenren gave the people around him a wider berth than normal, but he still saw them stop whatever they were doing to stare. It was seriously working on his nerves.  
  
Thank the gods for the training grounds where his men were awaiting a training session. Nobody went there unless they wanted an ass-kicking.  
  
Half an hour later, Kenren was ready to change his mind on that one. Fuck the training grounds. He just wanted to be left alone now.  
  
Okay, so having his subordinates go all starry-eyed on him was kind of hilarious. It certainly livened up the daily drills as the men tried to convince themselves that whoever did best in practice would surely get into Kenren's pants. Half the men there would settle for kneecapping their supposed rivals—the other half were busy trying to do the forms with both a lack of blood to the brain and what had to be seriously painful cases of blue balls.  
  
Hmm. Maybe if he dismissed them all early today he could get out of there before he had to beat some of them down for sheer incompetence. Plus, he could then spend his day drinking the fermented fruits of his latest trip to the Lower World. He could even bemoan the lack of not-creepy-divine-heritage-induced sex partners. Manfully. Silently. He could take comfort with his own two hands, even, because rubbing one out on his own was a way, way better option than giving any of these idiots a shot. It was an excellent plan.  
  
So, of course, the second he touched the crate of bottles in his quarter, a message from Field Marshal Tenpou arrived. Strategic planning meeting, pronto. Which meant that Kenren had to backtrack, giving a whole lot his would-be admirers a second look at his (still not available!) ass. Some of them even had the nerve to feed him a line. He prayed that Hir Holy Grabbyhands was too busy doing whatever it was Se did when not trying to coax people into spectacularly unlikely positions. Kenren shivered. No. Just no.  
  
Tenpou was perched on the corner of his desk, one leg stretched to the floor and the other bent, supporting a hefty file that he leafed through. To Kenren's dismay Gojun was also in Tenpou's office. He stood, unmoving, like a disgruntled pillar of rock next to the only empty chair in the room—which he could have sat in, if he wasn't such an uptight bastard.  
  
Kenren looked first at one, then at the other. He suspected the strategic planning meeting was more of a strategic goading session. Just great. One superior using him to piss off another superior was not how he'd wanted to spend his afternoon. He ignored the both of them, instead clearing a space to sit among the myriad stacks of papers and books. Tenpou would understand, and it was unlikely that such a small rudeness would do anything to change Gojun's already low opinion of him. Kenren sat, and a cloud of dust rose up from the bench's cushions. Gojun glared until the dust settled again, and Tenpou tapped the ashes off his cigarette into the ceramic frog-mouth.  
  
"Yeah?" said Kenren. "What's up?"  
  
"Cigarette?" said Tenpou. "Gojun?"  
  
The tone of Tenpou's voice set off an alarm in Kenren's head. He delivered his best withering glare in Tenpou's direction. (It was, of course, ignored.) He had no doubt that this was the Field Marshal being somehow devious which, ordinarily he might appreciate, but not today.  
  
“Well then, down to business, I suppose,” said Tenpou. “After all, we wouldn’t want to waste the Western Dragon King's time.”  
  
Tenpou closed the file, put it onto one of the teetering stacks beside him, and slid off the desk. Kenren cringed at the wobbling this caused in the piles. This movement of his brought Gojun's attention squarely on him. The intensity of that look made his skin crawl.  
  
"Gojun would like to borrow your services," said Tenpou.  
  
Gojun inclined his head, looking at Kenren like Kenren was a nice, juicy steak. Did dragons eat steaks? Kenren didn't really want to find out. He also wasn't sure he wanted to think about what services Gojun had in mind.  
  
"However," said Tenpou. "I felt you might find working under Gojun to be a bit more restrictive than you might like, even as a…volunteer."  
  
Gojun smoldered at him. Literally. With little wisps of smoke and fire along with the scathing regard of eyes gone dark with lust. The warnings in Kenren’s head got louder. Seriously?  
  
“Uh,” Kenren said.  
  
He jumped when an arm landed across his shoulder. Tenpou. He glanced at him sidelong, but all he saw was Tenpou's shaggy hair. What was he playing at?  
  
"Of course, I am happy to cooperate, although your abilities would be sorely missed."  
  
Tenpou's hand dropped lower, over Kenren's shoulder. He watched in fascinated horror as those nicotine-stained fingertips edged unerringly closer to his left nipple.  
  
"Uh, Field Marshal," he said.  
  
Tenpou ignored him and seemed to speak directly to Gojun.  
  
"He is a loyal subordinate," said Tenpou. "Clever and talented. He doesn't care about praise, but abuse him, tell him he's no good, and he'll spend the rest of his life trying to prove you wrong."  
  
Gojun growled, low in his throat. And, without a word, he whirled around and left.  
  
Kenren didn't relax until Tenpou went back to his desk. Even then, his stomach continued to do weird things inside him.  
  
"So now that I've chased off that admirer of yours," said Tenpou. "We can discuss why every god in Heaven has been intent on molesting you today."  
  
Kenren blinked. Tenpou stubbed out his cigarette.  
  
"Ah," said Tenpou. "Perhaps it has to do with the rumor of that illustrious uncle of yours."  
  
"Half-uncle," said Kenren.  
  
Tenpou smiled. Kenren wanted to sink into the floor at his automatic response.  
  
"I for one would like to know if it's true," said Tenpou. "Empirical evidence and all that."  
  
Kenren swallowed hard. Along with the sinking feeling in his stomach, there was the start of something much more pleasant.  
  
"Evidence?" he said.  
  
"Yes, evidence," said Tenpou. "A line of inquiry. Fucking you. Does it bring one closer to enlightenment?"  
  
Awww shit.  
  
"Nope," said Kenren.  
  
But of course he said it too fast, and Tenpou took the bit between his teeth.  
  
"But how do you know if you haven’t tried?”  
  
Kenren really didn’t want to be having this conversation.  
  
“I just do,” he said.  
  
Tenpou studied his face.  
  
“There’s something you aren’t telling me,” said Tenpou. “If only I could put my finger on it…”  
  
Kenren began to sweat. Okay. So all the horny people all around him gave him a buzz, even if they were annoying the shit out of him, and so what if he’d tried to take care of the problem himself just so his life could go on. Not that it ever helped.  Tenpou didn’t need to know that.  
  
No need to go down that road, not when Tenpou was being his usual aggravating self and he was…uhm…stripping in his office?  
  
Tenpou’s tie slithered to the floor, and his jacket followed.  
  
“Empirical evidence, huh,” said Kenren.  
  
All he could really think about was the tempting, closed zipper of Tenpou’s slacks. Sure, it was the seventy-seven year itch that spurred this whole thing on, but if he could resist then so couldn't Tenpou.  
  
“If you would be so kind to indulge me,” said Tenpou. “I may be more affected by your situation than I have let on.”  
  
That admission brought a flush of heat to Kenren’s cheeks.  
  
But then again…Tenpou was pretty and willing and right there, and he’d so clearly chased Gojun off when Gojun could have done serious bodily harm to Kenren with his fancy draconic dick under the guise of military exercises because Kenren was good in a fight but not good enough to take Gojun on and win, necessarily. Okay. Kenren did not just think about that. Nope. He was going to erase that right out of his brain.  
  
It occurred to him then that this whole thing was an elaborate set-up to get into his pants.  
  
"You couldn't just ask like a normal person, huh?" said Kenren.  
  
"I wanted to determine how strong your sexual aura was," said Tenpou. "The accounts I've heard might have been exaggerated, for all I knew."  
  
Kenren rolled his eyes.  
  
"No one's going to lie about that," he said. "Well, okay. Some people would."  
  
A lot of guys would lie about that, really, especially the idiots around here. Tenpou swept his legs out from under him, and Kenren's head smacked a pile of papers, which scattered like his thoughts.  
  
Tenpou was on him in a flash, sending more papers cascading. Clouds of dust rose all around as Tenpou stripped off Kenren's pants. He toyed with the silver skull closure on Kenren's jacket, then frowned.  
  
"Need help?" said Kenren.  
  
"Leave it," said Tenpou. "It's sexy."  
  
Kenren popped the buttons off Tenpou's shirt in reply. One of them got tangled in Tenpou's hair, and he brushed it out again.  
  
"Pull it," said Tenpou. “I don’t mind.”  
  
Kenren did just that, and Tenpou pressed his mouth against Kenren's shoulder and bit. He ground himself against Kenren, no finesse, just heat and friction and a rhythm that Kenren returned, thrust for thrust.  
  
Kenren dug his fingers into Tenpou's shoulders, tight enough that they would probably have bruises later. He bit Tenpou's ear, his throat, the hollow at his collar bones. They rolled off the bench and onto the floor. Kenren felt hazy and hot as he and Tenpou grappled. It was good. Gods it was good.  
  
He straddled Tenpou, and Tenpou's fingers first slid along the curve of his spine, then settled at his hips. One of Tenpou's hands moved between the two of them and made a tight fist that the two of them shared, one sliding in, then the other. Kenren raked Tenpou's ribs and let himself imagine what it would be like to do this all the time.  
  
Kenren came.  
  
Tenpou took hardly more coaxing; as Kenren felt the last of his orgasm ripple away, a second, sticky warmth made itself known on his stomach. He rolled himself off Tenpou and onto some of the papers around them. Something poked him in the ass, and he dug around beneath him with one hand. He couldn't find whatever it was, but he didn't want to actually get up, so he lay there and suffered and listened to Tenpou's breathing as it slowed and steadied. The mess on his stomach went cold. After a few minutes more, he crumpled up a piece of paper and scraped himself clean.  
  
"I need to turn that report in, you know," said Tenpou. “And I believe you’re sitting on my second-favorite writing brush.”  
  
Kenren turned his head and looked at Tenpou.  
  
“Well?” said Kenren.  
  
“Hmm?” said Tenpou.  
  
Kenren nudged him with an elbow. His elbow slipped in their combined sweat.  
  
“Feeling enlightened?” he said.  
  
Tenpou appeared to give this some serious thought.  
  
“I’m afraid not,” he said. “Although…”  
  
“Yeah?” said Kenren. “Spit it out.”  
  
“We’ll need to do more research,” said Tenpou. “Much more research.”  
  
Kenren snorted.  
  
“The road to enlightenment is a long one, huh,” he said.  
  
He didn’t resist when Tenpou re-positioned Kenren’s lax body.  
  
Tenpou beamed at him.  
  
“Precisely,” he said. “See? You’re getting closer to Nirvana already.”  
  
What Kenren touched then, and what Tenpou did after that didn’t get them closer to understanding the core principles of the universe. It was, simply, a conjunction of heavenly bodies.  
  
Nirvana didn’t even come close.


	2. Chapter 2

Epilogue

 

The Merciful Goddess did not jump when Jiroushin coughed discreetly from somewhere behind Hir. Nor did Se stop watching the images reflected in the lotus pool. Hir couch was too comfortable to leave, and the show was positively divine.

"Your Mercifulness," said Jiroushin. "Have you no respect for your fellow gods?"

Se waved a hand at him. Who knew Tenpou could bend like that? How delicious.

"This is the best entertainment I've had in seventy years," Se said. "How could you expect me to miss it?"

The Merciful Goddess pouted at Jiroushin, though he couldn't see it from where he was, hovering ever closer behind Hir.

"Ah," said Jiroushin. "General Kenren. The fish that got away."

Se scowled into the water. The pool was giving such a miserable angle, Se could hardly see what was…ah. That was more like it! Se nudged a lotus blossom out of the way.

"He did not get away," Se said. "We had a marvelous little interlude, and he went exactly where I wanted, in the end. I can only do so much to encourage people, you know."

It was the least boring thing to happen in years, really, and Kenren's ass was commendably firm where it counted. His tongue, too. Se sighed. Too few of the gods here could appreciate the finer points of flesh. There was no one around Se could gossip with, except poor, put-upon Jiro.

Jiroushin coughed again, and The Merciful Goddess yanked Hir attention away from the delightfully earthiness the pool showed.

"What in Heaven's name do you want now?" Se said.

He looked uncomfortable at Hir irritation. Good. Perhaps there was hope for him after all. It wouldn't do to bring Hir mercy down upon him.

"Your presence is requested in the Pavillion of Eternal Sky And Clouds," he said. "You were supposed to be there hours ago. The Dragon clan is growing quite impatient."

Se flapped a hand at him and turned back to the water before Hir.

"Boring," Se said. "Although, that reminds me."

The Merciful Goddess dipped a toe in the water of the pool. Ripples moved outward, intersecting and shimmering until the water stilled again. Jiroushin gasped.

"But that—that's—" he stammered.

"Mmm," Se said. "Oh my. Rather more than I could hope for."

Gojun was in quite a temper, it seemed. His bruised pride seemed to have spurred him on to great heights of ecstasy. Enthusiastic wasn't the word. Driven. Needy. Desperate, even. Se licked Hir lips.

"I could do better than that for him," The Merciful Goddess said. "Not that he doesn't have some natural talent…"

Jiroushin choked, and Se slapped him on the back when he seemed in danger of not recovering. The pool's image faded when Hir attention was no longer on it. Se sighed again. The things a goddess did to save Hir useless underlings. Se stretched, then stood. The eternal sun shone bright and warm on Hir face. Jiroushin looked at Hir hopefully.

"The pavillion?" said Jiroushin.

The Merciful Goddess shook her head.

"Don't be dense," Se said. "We've got better things to do."

That distinctive sound could only be Jiro's hand hitting his face. Se smiled, taking mercy upon him. Se turned to him, grabbed him by the arm, and pulled.

"Come on, Jiro," Se said. "I haven't got all day."

"But—the pavillion—" Jiroushin said. "The dragons—"

Kanzeon laid a finger against his lips, shushing him.

"Fuck the dragons, I say," Se said. "Or rather, just one will do."

And then The Merciful Goddess winked.

Se'd show Gojun what the mercy of Heaven really was. He would never know what hit him.


End file.
